Daily affirmations of a word mercenary
Observations Category
I’ve studied Sociology both in college and out in the field. It’s about about observation. This is also known as “people watching,” but much more academic. Oh yes. So much more academic. (And no: I’m not being serious.)
Underground Circus Arts Subculture
6
Jul
2005
In: Observations
If I was still A) a sociology student or B) the editor of a west coast culture magazine, I would write about the emerging circus underground. Has anyone else noticed that all the old ravers, freaks, artists, burners, etc have all become fire spinners, burlesque dancers, stilt walkers, jugglers, and (yes) hoopers? How there are packs of supposedly bad-ass drunken clowns wandering around? How hipsters are trying out acrobatics and trapeze work and el diablos and what the fuck is up with that? Is it just the trickle down of Cirque du Soleil that made the circus cool with the American underground? 10 years ago you certainly didn’t see a lot of fire eating stilt-walkers at underground parties, and now those fuckers are everywhere! It seems like every city has a pack of Cirque du So ‘n’ So and Dream Circus and El Circo and Erotic Cirque and oh my goodness! If I wasn’t writing about movies 9-to-5 and working on a book proposal (yes! still! update coming soon, I hope!) I would do some investigating and write about the topic. Since I don’t have the time, would someone else do so, please?
Stereotypical Cars
24
Jun
2005
In: Observations
It really frustrates me how stereotypical people are with their vehicles. For instance, every time I pull up to a souped-up Honda Civic with an enormous spoiler and a 6″-wide exhaust pipe, I’m always secretly praying that the driver will be anyone OTHER than a young, style-conscious Asian dude with spiked hair.
I’m usually disappointed. Why are so people so predictable with their cars? Why is it that when I see one of those Hondas I can almost always know who’s going to be driving it? I want someone to surprise me one of these days — I want to pull up to one of those cars and find an aging Latina woman running errands, or a 16-year-old goth girl with hello kitty tattoos.
At least with the enormous Cadillacs with their tinted windows and shiny hubcaps you can find either African American men OR women. At least there’s some gender egalitarianism behind that stereotypical vehicle choice.
Then again, I have to assume that people pull up next to me (in my maroon mid-’90s Subaru Legacy with its rack on top) thinking to themselves, “Please let it not be another white woman, please let it not be another white woman … DAMN!“
Sucks to be him
14
Apr
2005
In: Observations
Yesterday I was on a crowded bus heading towards downtown Seattle. At one stop, a couple of young hip looking guys got on, and suddenly the bus was overtaken by the smell of … what is that? Paint thinner? Fingernail polish remover? Wood polish? The two guys (who couldn’t find a seat and were standing in the aisle) were chatting away and a woman sitting behind me must have made a face or something because one of them explained, “It’s paint lacquer. Someone lacquered the bus bench and didn’t put up a ‘WET PAINT’ sign. His jacket is ruined.” There was much fussing and clucking from everyone around the poor guy.
Then we were at my stop. The woman sitting next to me tried to get out of my way so I could get off the bus, but since the aisle was packed, she wasn’t able to give me much room. As I tried to squeeze around her, I accidentally bumped into her shoulder. The jostling then resulted in poor Mr. Lacquer Jacket getting some of the woman’s coffee dumped on his shirt. I was one of the last people trying to get off the bus but I had to stop and put an apologetic hand on the poor guy’s chest and say, “Oh shit — I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t even 9 o’clock and that guy was already having the shittiest day ever. I felt bad that I played a part in it.
Happy vs. Stupid
7
Apr
2005
In: Observations
Why is it so easy to assume that happy = stupid? Couldn’t it be just as likely that happy = has made peace with the fucked-uppedness of it all and refuses to give into futile frustration? I seem to be the only one that thinks this way.
Verbal Tic
17
Mar
2005
In: Observations
As long as I’m discussing verbal tics (see literally/figuratively below), I have to out my own abused phrases:
• Beginning sentences with “You know, it’s funny…” and then going on to say something that A) the listener doesn’t know and B) isn’t funny.
• “Right.” I say this all the time when I’m listening to people. Unfortunately it’s confusing because people think I already know what they’re telling me.
Literally
15
Mar
2005
In: Observations
My current conversational pet peeve is the way people throw around the word “literally,” using it when they mean “figuratively.”
For example: “I was so thirsty that I drank literally five gallons of water.” No, actually you didn’t. You drank perhaps 10 or 12 ounces all at once, or maybe even a whopping 32. But you did not drink a gallon, let alone five. You figuratively drank five gallons.
I’ve mentioned before that the art of exaggeration is a delicate one, and that sometimes actually being literal can bolster a good yarn. If you say, “Then there was a awkward silence — honestly, it was probably about 5 seconds long. But 5 seconds of dead silence after you’ve accidentally spilled the beans about your gender reassignment surgery is really awkward.”
Wouldn’t it be cool if people just said “figuratively” instead of “literally”? Like, “I was so fucking tired, I was figuratively asleep before my head hit the pillow! I was so sick of his whining that I figuratively vomited! The song was so catchy that I was figuratively singing it 500 times a day!”
Or: Today while awaiting a video conference call thing at work, one of my coworkers (the only fellow girl in this sea of what one (male) coworker has called “a white dickfest”)* complimented my stegosaurus sweatshirt. I said thank you, and glanced down to see that my sweatshirt was filthy, covered with speckles of toothpaste, dog hair, pink towel fuzz, and god knows what else. I figuratively gasped and ran from the room.
*When trying to remember my coworker’s exact quote, I searched my message history of conversations with him for the word “dick.” The results were supremely entertaining.**
**The meaningless dick reference is from an interview the coworker did with The Great Kat.
Underground Circus Arts Subculture
6 Jul 2005 In: ObservationsIf I was still A) a sociology student or B) the editor of a west coast culture magazine, I would write about the emerging circus underground. Has anyone else noticed that all the old ravers, freaks, artists, burners, etc have all become fire spinners, burlesque dancers, stilt walkers, jugglers, and (yes) hoopers? How there are packs of supposedly bad-ass drunken clowns wandering around? How hipsters are trying out acrobatics and trapeze work and el diablos and what the fuck is up with that? Is it just the trickle down of Cirque du Soleil that made the circus cool with the American underground? 10 years ago you certainly didn’t see a lot of fire eating stilt-walkers at underground parties, and now those fuckers are everywhere! It seems like every city has a pack of Cirque du So ‘n’ So and Dream Circus and El Circo and Erotic Cirque and oh my goodness! If I wasn’t writing about movies 9-to-5 and working on a book proposal (yes! still! update coming soon, I hope!) I would do some investigating and write about the topic. Since I don’t have the time, would someone else do so, please?
Stereotypical Cars
24 Jun 2005 In: ObservationsIt really frustrates me how stereotypical people are with their vehicles. For instance, every time I pull up to a souped-up Honda Civic with an enormous spoiler and a 6″-wide exhaust pipe, I’m always secretly praying that the driver will be anyone OTHER than a young, style-conscious Asian dude with spiked hair.
I’m usually disappointed. Why are so people so predictable with their cars? Why is it that when I see one of those Hondas I can almost always know who’s going to be driving it? I want someone to surprise me one of these days — I want to pull up to one of those cars and find an aging Latina woman running errands, or a 16-year-old goth girl with hello kitty tattoos.
At least with the enormous Cadillacs with their tinted windows and shiny hubcaps you can find either African American men OR women. At least there’s some gender egalitarianism behind that stereotypical vehicle choice.
Then again, I have to assume that people pull up next to me (in my maroon mid-’90s Subaru Legacy with its rack on top) thinking to themselves, “Please let it not be another white woman, please let it not be another white woman … DAMN!“
Sucks to be him
14 Apr 2005 In: ObservationsYesterday I was on a crowded bus heading towards downtown Seattle. At one stop, a couple of young hip looking guys got on, and suddenly the bus was overtaken by the smell of … what is that? Paint thinner? Fingernail polish remover? Wood polish? The two guys (who couldn’t find a seat and were standing in the aisle) were chatting away and a woman sitting behind me must have made a face or something because one of them explained, “It’s paint lacquer. Someone lacquered the bus bench and didn’t put up a ‘WET PAINT’ sign. His jacket is ruined.” There was much fussing and clucking from everyone around the poor guy.
Then we were at my stop. The woman sitting next to me tried to get out of my way so I could get off the bus, but since the aisle was packed, she wasn’t able to give me much room. As I tried to squeeze around her, I accidentally bumped into her shoulder. The jostling then resulted in poor Mr. Lacquer Jacket getting some of the woman’s coffee dumped on his shirt. I was one of the last people trying to get off the bus but I had to stop and put an apologetic hand on the poor guy’s chest and say, “Oh shit — I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t even 9 o’clock and that guy was already having the shittiest day ever. I felt bad that I played a part in it.
Happy vs. Stupid
7 Apr 2005 In: ObservationsWhy is it so easy to assume that happy = stupid? Couldn’t it be just as likely that happy = has made peace with the fucked-uppedness of it all and refuses to give into futile frustration? I seem to be the only one that thinks this way.
Verbal Tic
17 Mar 2005 In: ObservationsAs long as I’m discussing verbal tics (see literally/figuratively below), I have to out my own abused phrases:
• Beginning sentences with “You know, it’s funny…” and then going on to say something that A) the listener doesn’t know and B) isn’t funny.
• “Right.” I say this all the time when I’m listening to people. Unfortunately it’s confusing because people think I already know what they’re telling me.
Literally
15 Mar 2005 In: ObservationsMy current conversational pet peeve is the way people throw around the word “literally,” using it when they mean “figuratively.”
For example: “I was so thirsty that I drank literally five gallons of water.” No, actually you didn’t. You drank perhaps 10 or 12 ounces all at once, or maybe even a whopping 32. But you did not drink a gallon, let alone five. You figuratively drank five gallons.
I’ve mentioned before that the art of exaggeration is a delicate one, and that sometimes actually being literal can bolster a good yarn. If you say, “Then there was a awkward silence — honestly, it was probably about 5 seconds long. But 5 seconds of dead silence after you’ve accidentally spilled the beans about your gender reassignment surgery is really awkward.”
Wouldn’t it be cool if people just said “figuratively” instead of “literally”? Like, “I was so fucking tired, I was figuratively asleep before my head hit the pillow! I was so sick of his whining that I figuratively vomited! The song was so catchy that I was figuratively singing it 500 times a day!”
Or: Today while awaiting a video conference call thing at work, one of my coworkers (the only fellow girl in this sea of what one (male) coworker has called “a white dickfest”)* complimented my stegosaurus sweatshirt. I said thank you, and glanced down to see that my sweatshirt was filthy, covered with speckles of toothpaste, dog hair, pink towel fuzz, and god knows what else. I figuratively gasped and ran from the room.
*When trying to remember my coworker’s exact quote, I searched my message history of conversations with him for the word “dick.” The results were supremely entertaining.**
**The meaningless dick reference is from an interview the coworker did with The Great Kat.
Hey there. I'm Ariel Meadow Stallings, a native Seattleite who's written my way up and down the Left Coast. Electrolicious is where I post daily randomata, but I also write for a living. My first book, Offbeat Bride, was published last year.
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